


didn't make sense not to live for fun

by somehowunbroken



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: M/M, NHL All-Star Weekend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-27
Updated: 2020-01-27
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:54:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,327
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22428169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/somehowunbroken/pseuds/somehowunbroken
Summary: Mat texted TK when he found out they both made it because, well, he had TK's phone number, and it would be weird not to, probably.And then TK did that interview.
Relationships: Mathew Barzal/Travis Konecny
Comments: 28
Kudos: 255





	didn't make sense not to live for fun

**Author's Note:**

> nope, the summary's all i got, that's literally it, folks

Mat doesn't even think about it, not really. He gets the call that he's going to the All-Star Game again, which isn't any less incredible the second time, and then he sees the list of everyone else going later in the afternoon, and he shoots off a text to TK about it being cool to see him again because they haven't seen each other in a while, and then he puts his phone down and goes on with his life.

He's really not expecting to get a text from Dylan Strome, of all people. The text is typical Dylan, when he opens it: a handful of emojis that may or may not contain some sort of hidden meaning, a link, and nothing else. Mat considers ignoring it for an entire fifteen seconds, he truly does, but he's way too fucking curious for his own good.

It's a video clip of TK, something about the All-Star Game, and Mat smiles reflexively when he hits play. TK looks… like TK, Mat figures, made out of smiles and emotions and held together by too much camo. They were friends but they were never super close, but he hears TK laugh and suddenly misses him like a phantom limb. Hockey's weird that way sometimes.

He's not sure why Dylan sent him the video, but he was sort of distracted by the fact that TK shaved off the terrible facial hair he'd had going on, so he hits replay and actually listens, and—

"Uh," he says out loud to his empty apartment as TK smiles and laughs his way through telling the reporter that he's less nervous about going to the game because Mat texted him.

He watches it a third time, then switches back to his texts. Dylan gets the rolling eyes emoji, which is a careful balance between ignoring him and engaging with him, and Dylan sends back the crying laughing emoji before Mat can switch away. He _does_ ignore that one, though, so he can switch over to his message with TK.

 _nice video, bud,_ he sends, because what the hell else is he even supposed to say here?

 _hahahaha w/e like ur not excited to see me 2,_ TK replies.

Mat rolls his eyes. _still great at texting, i see_

_u love it bro dont even frnt_  
_*fromt_  
_*F R O N T_

Mat laughs, and he absolutely, definitely leaves TK on read.

-0-

"Dude," TK says, and his smile is a lot _more_ in person. Mat… didn't remember that at all.

"Hey, man," Mat says, reaching out to haul TK in for a bro hug. TK laughs and slips his hands up under Mat's jacket, and he's small but he doesn't feel it, pressed against Mat's front with his hands all over Mat's back.

It's… not a bro hug.

"I can't believe you wore a camo suit and I didn't," TK says when he pulls back, and Mat tries not to feel cold as TK's warm hands drop out of the back of his jacket. "Man, I _told_ Patty I could get away with it."

Mat snorts. "Your boyfriend talk you out of your favourite suit?"

"Nope," TK says cheerily. "I mean, Patty talked me out of it, but he's not my boyfriend, so."

Mat's eyebrows both go up as they turn to walk towards the hotel where all of the players are staying. "He's not?"

TK laughs and glances around, eyes searching. "He's, uh, spoken for," he says, nodding his chin at someone, and when Mat turns to look, he catches the flash of Hischier's smile as he talks to the media.

"Huh," Mat says. "I'd say I didn't see that coming, but there's something about the first and second overall, I guess."

"We could always ask Davo and Eichs," TK suggests.

"Or we could not," Mat says quickly, and TK laughs again, and—

They were never super close, but it was always easy like this, hanging out with TK and his lack of personal space, and suddenly Mat's looking forward to the next few days even more than he already had been.

-0-

"You and me, bud," Mat says when the lineups come out. He's glad he got tagged for fastest skater; he likes it, enjoys letting loose and seeing how fast he can really go out there, even if McDavid's a lock to win it.

It'll be fun to go up against TK, too, who's laughing yet again as he turns to face Mat. "Man, I'm just hoping I don't fall on my ass out there. I'm calling it a solid win for me if I don't eat shit on live television."

"Yeah, you do enough of that during games," Mat says, grinning when TK digs an elbow into his side.

"Want to make it interesting?" TK asks when he's done trying to break Mat's ribs.

"Interesting how?" Mat asks.

"Interesting like I try to beat you," TK says, "and if I win, I get to pick."

Mat snorts. "And when I win?"

"First of all, rude," TK says, elbowing him again. "And second of all, then you get to pick. Duh."

Mat can't help himself; he glances over at TK, and he tells himself not to look down, but his eyes drop to TK's mouth anyway. He's already smiling, but his lips pull back even more as Mat watches. "Oh, it's like that, huh?"

Mat's eyes snap back up, and he starts to mumble our a denial, an apology, but TK's face is crinkling up as he laughs, and Mat's only goddamn human. "It doesn't have to be," Mat manages, which he thinks is a feat he should probably be commended for.

"It can be," TK says with a shrug. He gives Mat a long, obvious up-and-down, and he's still smiling when he meets Mat's eyes again. "I sure as hell wouldn't mind."

"What happened to being nervous?" Mat mutters. He can feel how hot his face is, jesus.

TK's laugh is loud as he elbows Mat again, gentler this time. "Well, you're here," he says. "What do I have to be nervous about?"

-0-

Kreider goes first, and he's—shit, he's fast, and Mat's new personal goal is to just goddamn beat Chris Kreider. He doesn't give a shit who wins, as long as it's not a _Ranger_.

He's second to last, which means he's got time to watch everyone else; TK doesn't fall and he doesn't come in last, so he's smiling as he throws himself back over the boards, and Mat whacks him on the shoulder as he laughs. "Gonna have to beat that," he says, waving at the ice. "You think you can?"

Mat grins at him. "In my sleep, bud."

"Oh, confident," Tk says, and Mat has no idea how he's talking with how winded he clearly is, but that's TK in a nutshell: never, ever shutting up.

"Very," Mat says, and then it's his turn, so he swings over the board and lines up and fucking—skates, goddamn.

He clocks in at 13.175.

His first thought is that he's solodily ahead of Kreider, and then he's mentally scrambling as he heaves to catch his breath on the bench. He knows Davo was slower than that last year, but it was close, he thinks. And last year only matters so much, because Davo's out there now, and his skating is so fucking _nice_ that Mat thinks he won't even mind coming in second to him.

But—

"Holy fuck," Duke shrieks, grabbing Mat and shaking him when they call it, and Mat's laughing, unable to focus on anything, but _holy shit_.

TK leans over when Duke lets go, and there's a reporter in Mat's face with a mic, but TK just grins and says, "Well, I guess you won," and then he leans back like an asshole, smiling smugly at Mat over the reporter's shoulder.

Mat stumbles through the media bullshit, spouting out something about Davo's skating and how much fun he's having, and he's glad that he has the excuse of just having skated the fastest lap of his life, because he's pretty sure he'd be winded from the look TK is giving him. Mat wants to lean over, to tell him to put that face away; there are cameras everywhere, and especially right around them right now, but then the reporter is thanking him for his time and they're cutting to commercial, and someone from the events team is herding them off the bench and back onto the ice—

He _won_. Holy _shit_.

"Hey," Mat hears, and he turns to see Davo grinning at him. "Nice skate, man."

"Yeah, thanks," Mat says, grinning back at him and trying not to glance around for TK. "Sorry for dethroning you, except not really."

Davo laughs, and everything about him is so quiet when he's not actively competing for something. "Nah, you can have it," he says, and he's so earnest about it.

"At least for this year," Eichs adds from right behind Davo. Mat assumes Eichs means he'll challenge for it next year but Davo's blushing, and that's… interesting, okay. Mat makes a mental note to tell TK that maybe the one-two thing actually didn't skip their draft year.

It honestly is fun; Mat remembers it from last year, chatting with guys from around the league and watching everyone do the ridiculous competitions they set up. The women's 3-on-3 is intense and awesome to watch, and it's all in all just a really great night.

There's a lot of noise as everyone makes their way off the ice and back towards the locker rooms; lots of people are heading out, Mat surmises, and normally he'd be on that, but he doesn't say anything as he walks into the locker room and glances around, trying to be at least a little subtle about how he's looking for TK.

"Nice," TK says from behind Mat, and when Mat turns, he's holding his fist out with a grin. "Like, _nice_."

"I tried," Mat says, bumping TK's fist and trying not to smile back too hard.

"It was very nice," Duke calls out. "Man, that was some good skating."

Mat laughs and shakes his head. "Just wanted to beat this guy," he says, nodding at Kreider.

"Dude, that was sick," Kreider says, and he's smiling like he's not mad that Mat beat him pretty soundly. Mat can let him be the bigger person here; he's fine with that.

"Man, you're already a meme," Marns says, looking up from his phone and grinning at Kreider. "I mean, I was impressed, too, but…"

He turns his phone around, and sure enough, there's a GIF of Kreider's face right after Mat's lap. It's pretty funny, honestly, and Kreider just shrugs and laughs as he yanks his jersey off.

It's not surprising, how easy it is to joke around as they get undressed and hit the showers. For all that Mat had wanted to beat Kreider out of some sense of New York pride, hockey guys are hockey guys, and Mat knows how to interact with hockey guys. He goes through it all on autopilot, rinsing off and toweling dry and getting dressed. He doesn't chirp Eichs when Davo knocks on the door and they both disappear, and Pasta just laughs and shakes his head before he heads out, and then—

TK grins at him from his stall as the door shuts behind the last of the guys. "I was gonna say that I won because I didn't crash and burn, but…"

Mat laughs, standing to toss his towel into the bin. "I didn't even care about winning," he admits, pushing a hand through his hair. "I just couldn't let it go to a Ranger."

There's a second of silence, and then TK leans his head back and laughs, long and loud. "That's some petty bullshit," he says after a moment, still laughing through it. "Man, it's too perfect."

"I try," Mat says, trying and mostly failing to keep his tone serious.

"Whatever, man, you won," TK says, finally getting his laughter under control. "And, like, you _won,_ so…"

Mat shifts on his feet. "We, uh. We don't have to. I don't want to, like, make you do something you don't want to do."

TK smirks at him. "I mean, thanks, but I can and will say no if I'm not down for whatever you're thinking," he says. "And just in case I didn't make myself clear earlier, I am _absolutely_ down to have sex with you."

Mat blushes so violently that he's worried his cheeks might combust. "Oh."

"Oh," TK says, snickering. "But, like, if you just want to go eat a million dollars' worth of sushi, we can—"

"No," Mat cuts in. "No, uh."

TK's smirk widens, and he stands up and stretches his arms above the head. He knows exactly what it does to his arms, the fucker, but that in no way stops Mat from watching the way his muscles play as he moves. He's still got that smirk on his face when he lowers his arms, and nothing about this should be hot—they're in the Blues' visiting locker room, TK's hair is uncombed and wild around his head, _it's TK_ —but Mat is hopelessly into it anyway.

"So," TK says, taking a step towards Mat. "Your room or mine?"

-0-

TK's room is two floors lower than Mat's, which makes the decision for them.

They crash through the door, and TK has his hands pushed up beneath Mat's suit jacket again before it latches. He's small but he's strong as hell, and he definitely knows how to use his size to his advantage; it's not like Mat's fighting him, but it's still hot when TK muscles him back against the wall and goes up on his toes for a kiss. It's messy, hot, Mat gripping TK's hips as hard as TK's pressing him into the wall, and even though the whole point of this is for Mat to be into it, he's still a little surprised at _how_ into it he is.

"So," TK says, barely pulling back at all. His eyes are huge and bright in the weird hotel lighting, and the grin on his face is easy to see. "What d'you want here, man?"

"Blow me," Mat's mouth says with no input from the rest of him, and he's about to backtrack, to phrase it more like a question, but TK's grin widens and he drops to the floor, knees set wide as he reaches up for Mat's belt. He swats at Mat when he tries to help, so Mat just puts his palms flat against the wall and watches as TK deftly undoes his belt and unbuttons his pants.

"You've done this before," Mat says, realisation dawning as he says the words. No way someone's that good at undoing a belt from the wrong side if they're new to it.

TK laughs and glances up at him. "You think?"

"Shit," Mat breathes out, lifting his hips away from the wall as TK tugs his pants down to just above his knees.

"Hopefully not," TK says, and it's ridiculously cheerful for someone who's reaching out to trace the line of Mat's dick through his boxers. Mat laughs even as he's gasping, the touch too light to be anything other than a tease as TK reaches the tip and starts dragging his fingers back down.

"C'mon," Mat says, pushing his hips forward, trying to get more friction, a firmer touch, anything. "Teeks, you're killing me."

"Well, we can't have that," TK says. He's still in his suit, Mat thinks, and Mat has his jacket on, his fucking _tie_ , but TK's got one hand on each of Mat's thighs and he's pushing them up beneath the fabric of his boxers, and as long as TK doesn't stop touching him, Mat doesn't think he actually has it in him to care.

"Can I," Mat asks, taking one hand from the wall and pushing it into TK's hair. It's long enough to grab, to hold onto, and Mat groans when TK nods.

"If I need you to stop, I'll touch your hand," TK says, pulling one hand out of Mat's boxers so he can reach up and rest his fingers against the back of Mat's hand. "Got it?"

"Got it," Mat says.

"Cool," TK says, dropping his hand and grinning up at Mat. He doesn't look away as he leans forward, putting his lips against the side of Mat's dick through his boxers and slowly moving his mouth up towards the tip. It's electric, the muted heat of TK's mouth combined with the drag of the fabric against him, and Mat feels like he's going to tremble apart right where he stands, back pressed to the wall between the entryway and the bathroom in a hotel in St. Louis.

"Hey," TK says, voice low, and Mat blinks his eyes open, not sure when he closed them. "You good?"

Mat's laugh is shivery to his own ears. "Yeah," he says. "I feel like I'm gonna embarrass myself here, man."

TK laughs. "Dude, if the point is for you to get off, then why is getting off embarrassing?"

Mat manages to shrug. "Lasting power?" he offers.

"Yeah, save it," TK says, grinning and rolling his eyes in a way that's perfectly TK. He pulls his hands out of Mat's boxers and quickly reaches up to tug them down, leaving them around his thighs. "You can do pretty much whatever, man. I'm good with it, and I don't have much of a gag reflex."

"Jesus," Mat mutters, fingers tightening reflexively in TK's hair. "You're serious?"

"Would I lie to you right before I got your dick in my mouth?" TK asks, raising an eyebrow.

Mat laughs again. "I don't know, man. I don't have a lot of experience in this very specific situation."

"Fair," TK acknowledges. "For the record, though: no, I wouldn't lie to you. Like, here specifically, but it's a thing I try not to do as a rule, y'know?"

Mat thinks back to the reporter's question, TK's too-earnest answer about Mat. "Yeah, okay," he says after a moment.

"Cool," TK says, grinning up at him again. "Are we all good here? Can I suck your dick now?"

"I'm not gonna say no to that," Mat says, loosening his grip on TK's hair as TK laugh and leans in.

It's hot and wet and messy; TK doesn't start slow, doesn't try to ease him into is or drag it out. It's intense, Mat thinks kind of dizzily, which makes sense with the rest of TK's everything, and it only gets more intense when Mat starts moving his hips with TK's movements, thrusting shallowly into his mouth.

"Fuck," Mat chokes out when TK just takes it, and he doesn't necessaily decide to start thrusting harder but he's doing it anyway, fingers tight in TK's hair as he fucks TK's face. TK's looking up at him through his eyelashes and he's got his hands curled around Mat's thighs, just holding on, and Mat just sort of loses any sense of composure he's got, thrusting hard into TK's mouth and yelling when he comes.

TK fucking swallows. Mat doesn't even know why he's surprised.

"Holy shit," he says weakly. He's glad he's pressed up against the wall, glad for TK's solid strength holding him up, because he he's pretty sure he'd go boneless and collapse on the floor without it.

"Nice," TK says, voice scraped raw, and Mat makes a noise he's not ashamed to admit is a whine at the sound of it. TK snickers and grins up at him. "You gonna fall if I let go of you?"

Mat's pretty sure the answer is yes, but he's willing to risk it. "As long as you get up here to kiss me again, I'll deal with it."

"Your dick's gonna get all over my shirt," TK says, but he moves his hands to Mat's hips and holds him steady as he stands, and he doesn't hesitate to lean in and kiss him again. It's slower this time but no less hot, and TK's mouth never stops moving against Mat's. It's luxurious, kind of amazing, and TK doesn't make any move to stop them or hurry things along even though Mat can feel how hard his is pressed against his thigh.

"Hey," Mat says, pulling back after—he has no idea how long, honestly. A while, probably. "Bed? Let me return the favour."

TK breathes out a laugh. "Remember what you were saying about lasting power? I might come before my pants are off, man."

"Fuck," Mat says, feeling his eyes go wide. "Okay, yeah, I get what you were saying before. That's not embarrassing, that's hot as hell."

"Glad you think so," TK says, grinning. He takes a step back, hands still on Mat's hips, and then another before he finally lets go. His hand immediately go to his tie, and for some reason Mat can't stop watching his fingers as they pull at the knot and slip the tie up over his head. TK's a flurry of motion and energy in everything he does, so watching him focus it all down like this, to the task of flicking his buttons open one by one… it's a lot, Mat decides. Everything about this is a lot.

"You should also get naked," TK says, and Mat drags his gaze back up to TK's face, unsurprised to find him grinning. "Unless you enjoy the 'thoroughly fucked in the doorway' look."

"Maybe I do," Mat counters, except now that TK's mentioned it, he notices the strain in his thighs from how his pants and boxers are cutting into them, and he's a weird combination of too hot and too cold with what's covered and what isn't. He's less delicate about getting undressed than TK is, more or less yanking at what he's wearing and leaving it in a puddle on the floor, but it means he's naked in time to glance up and watch TK bend over to pick his boxers up off the floor.

Mat makes a noise at the sight of him, and TK glances at him and grins as he tosses them onto the desk. "Yeah, not too bad yourself," he says, grin widening.

"Jesus, TK," Mat mutters, but he's laughing as he walks over to yank TK in, cupping his ass and encouraging TK to grind against him as he leans in to kiss him.

"Barz, m'gonna," TK mumbles against his mouth. As if it's news to Mat, as if the way his hips are moving faster and faster isn't giving him away.

"Yeah, do it," Mat says anyway, pulling TK closer, shoving a thigh between his legs. They both groan when TK thrusts against him, and Mat's halfway to hard again and dizzy with it, high on the way everything smells like sex and the noises TK's making and the feeling of him desperately riding Mat's thigh.

"Fuck," TK groans out, and he drops his head to Mat's shoulder as he comes, hips barely slowing at all until he shudders all over and goes heavy against Mat's chest.

Mat adjusts his stance and keeps his arms around TK, and it's not long before TK sighs and presses his mouth to Mat's collarbone, an uncoordinated approximation of a kiss. "Bed," he suggests. "Also, I hope you like cuddling, because I'm gonna need you to cuddle me for at least the next three hours."

"I can handle that," Mat says, grinning. TK's clearly done; his eyes are still bright, but he looks halfway asleep on his feet, and Mat can and will wait to suggest round two until after they get some rest. 

"Good," TK says, pulling away from Mat and managing the five steps it takes to collapse into the bed. The sheets aren't so much pulled back as they are messily left undone from TK getting out of bed in the morning, and Mat's willing to bet that TK doesn't let the cleaning service in just so he doesn't have to pull down the sheets again at night. It's ridiculous, and it's something else that's so endearingly TK that Mat feels a little like he's going to choke on it.

"Get in," TK says, keeping his eyes open probably just so he can glare at Mat. "I'm serious. Cuddle me or I'll die."

"Well, if you're serious," Mat says, trying not to laugh as he crawls in next to TK. TK's all over him in an instant, arm across his chest and leg tossed over his thigh, and Mat pulls the covers up around them both and relaxes into it as well as he can.

TK hums, and it's a low, satisfied sound. "So was that good?" he asks directly into Mat's pec. "Mr. Fastest Skater?"

"It was good, Mr. Not Slowest Skater," Mat replies, biting his lip to keep himself from laughing when TK snorts and pinches his hip. "You, uh. Think maybe you want to try that again when we wake up?"

"I think maybe I'll definitely want to," TK says, and Mat's starting to think the tired thing was a play to get Mat pinned to the bed before he started talking again. "And like, I'm just saying, Brooklyn isn't that far from Philly, if I impress you enough in the morning."

Mat's mouth drops open a little and his brain freezes, restarts, loads up again in the span of two seconds. He closes his mouth and swallows, considers trying to downplay the hope that sparks in his chest at the thought of it, remembers TK before, _I wouldn't lie to you_.

"Yeah," he says, probably several beats too late. "Maybe if _I_ impress _you_ enough in the morning. I swear I've got skills, man."

He can feel TK grinning against his chest. "I can't wait to find out."

**Author's Note:**

> many thanks to everyone who steadfastly refused to talk me out of this! y'all know who you are, ALI <3 <3


End file.
